Catfished
by 4sanine
Summary: Voldemort wants to learn how to love so he can defeat Harry, so he buys a blind-dating device invented by Fred and George. The twins find out, and with the help of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, they catfish him and make him fall in love with Harry. What could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

It was drizzling outside the manor, the fog blanketing its usual grandeur. The white peacocks that decorated the plaza appeared gray rather than their usual opalescent shade and the leaves in the ornate trees sagged under the weight of the rain drops. The interior of the luxurious estate was quite as dreary. Two men cloaked in black robes whispered quietly while the third kept silent, his back to the other two as he stroked his wand pensively.

"My Lord, may I ask why you have summoned us here today?" said one of the two men, breaking the palpable tension. His yellow hair hung limp around his sallow face, his usual bravado audibly shaven.

"Quiet Lucius," hissed the other man. "I'm sure the Dark Lord has brought us here for good reason. He values his time too much to call for trivial matters." Lengthy seconds passed before the third voice spoke.

"Right you are Severus," said Lord Voldemort, speaking for the first time, his voice cold and piercing. He turned to face Malfoy and Snape. "I have brought the two of here for a matter of great importance. I believe I have found a way to kill Harry Potter."

"A way to kill Potter?" stuttered Lucius.

"Yes, my sly friend. You see, I have been doing some great thinking. A thing I would not have to had done had you managed to take the prophecy from the Ministry last month, Lucius."

"My Lord, had the Order not come-," began Lucius, panic rising up in his voice, but Voldemort silenced him with a flick of his wand.

"I would not make excuses, Lucius. It is only by my mercy that you are standing before me today. As I was saying, after much contemplation, I have come to the belief that to kill Harry Potter, my soul must be as one with his. To do this, I must learn to love. The boy has great compassion. He's proved many times he's willing to die for his friends. I must learn to do the same."

Whatever Snape and Malfoy had been expecting Voldemort to say, it was not this.

"My Lord?" questioned Snape.

Lord Voldemort reached into the folds of his black robe, pulling out a slim emerald notebook emblazened with two golden Ws.


	2. Chapter 2

Many miles away, the mood in another house was quite the opposite of that present in Malfoy Manor. The Burrow was decorated with green and gold streamers and baubles that made the cramped little house feel twice as small as it usually was. The garden had been de-gnomed, and the usually clutter that invaded the kitchen had been swept away.

Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys were packed around the small wooden table that was stacked to the brim with plates of beef, potatoes, homemade bread, salad and many other of Mrs. Weasley's delicious dishes. Harry, squashed between Ron and Charlie, could barely move his arms in fear of knocking over his goblet of pumpkin juice. But the usual coziness and warmth of the Burrow washed over him in a wave of euphoria and the twin's latest success only added to the joy.

"I saw we propose a toast!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley, raising his goblet. "To Fred and George and their Wizarding Wingmen!"

"To Fred and George!" echoed the table, and there was much sloshing of pumpkin juice and beer as everyone raised their glasses to the twins.

"Really, you guys," said Hermione as she helped herself to a plate of mashed potatoes, "your Wingmen are fascinating! You must have had to use some really advanced charms."

"Hermione, we're flattered by your compliments," said George, "but it's Dad you've really got to give the credit to. It's thanks to his Muggle-loving ventures that we got the idea at all!"

"He was going on and on about some Muggle 'enter-net' he and Perkins discovered on some device called a computer," Fred joined in. "Really excited about it, never seen him so worked up before. Apparently, Muggles use it to, you know, get it on with one another." He winked.

"Quicker and a hell of a lot cleaner than owls," interjected George, his mouth full of bread.

"So George and I, being the great thinkers that we are, thought 'Well why can't wizards do that too?' and then we remembered the diary that possessed Ginny and how she could write with You-Know-Who and we realized it would be quite easy to do something similar. Only ours wouldn't involve dark magic of course."

"How thoughtful," scowled Ginny. Harry caught her eyes and grinned.

"Yes, dear sister, how thoughtful indeed," said Fred. "With a few not-so-simple spells, George and I were able to charm some old diaries into Wizarding Wingmen. Now you all can write instant messages to your lovers. Every notebook has a twin, but no one knows who the other belongs to, 'cept us of course. The Muggles call it "blind dating". They've been flying off the shelves at the shop!"

"Kids now a days just can't keep it in their pants can they, Fred?" asked George.

"Been thinking the same thing myself, Georgie," answered Fred.

"How much do they cost?" asked Ron, looking at the green notebook Fred had pulled from his robes and set on the table hungrily.

"We're not selling them to you," George said.

"Yeah, we don't want any miniature Ickle Ronnikins running around here," said Fred. "But I think we can give Harry and Hermione each one for free, what do you say?"

He passed one of the notebooks to each of them and they both turned scarlet.

"Fred, I-," Hermione stammered; Harry saw the tips of her ears turning pink.

"No need to thank us Hermione," the twins said, both of them winking.


	3. Chapter 3

The gold lettering on the green notebook in Lord Voldemort's hand flashed in the candle light.

"My Lord?" Snape asked, "I don't understand. That thing in your hand is a product from the Weasley shop. It's a joke of the use of magic. I don't see how it could possibly help you defeat the Potter boy."

"No, Severus," hissed Voldemort, "it's exactly what I need. You see, this magic will help me find someone to love, and once I can love, the boy can be taken care of. These little books are actually quite clever, asides from their trivial purpose. I can hide my true identity. The witch I write to need not even know it's me." He laughed his cold, high laugh.

He walked over to the ornately carved table in the center of the room and sat at its head, beckoning for Snape and Malfoy to follow. He laid the book out carefully and pulled an eagle-feather quill from the folds of his robes.

"I am...ashamed," he continued, "to admit this one fault to you. My filthy mother conceived me under the affects of a love potion she snuck to my Muggle father. I was raised in an orphanage and at Hogwarts, my friends were untrue. I never learned to truly care for others." He looked at Snape with piercing eyes. "But Severus, I believe you do," he whispered softly. "Help me write and you will be rewarded. Find me love and you will be honored far beyond any other."

"Yes, my Lord, of course," Snape replied, his voice quivering. He quickly composed himself. "I believe it best if you start simple. But you must be honest. If you want this to be true love you must lay yourself bare, no lies. Start with your name."

Voldemort smiled. "Yes. My name. Not many people know who I was in my youth."

He opened with notebook and picked up the quill, dipping it into a pot of ink he had just made appear.

 _Hello,_ he scratched on the parchment. _My name is Tom Riddle. Who are you?_

"Now we wait," he said, satisfied.


	4. Chapter 4

The rain had started up again outside the Burrow. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the twins were cramped in Ron's bedroom overlooking the Quidditch goal posts and the apple trees. The twins were animatedly discussing their booming business while Hermione was examining the emerald cover of her Wingman.

"We decided the first day of summer break would be a great way to kick off the new product," Fred said, making a pencil zoom around the room, narrowly missing poking Ron in the eye.

"Oy!" he shouted. "Watch it!"

"It was the second day of summer and our first shipment was already completely sold out! Twelve thousand galleons! We were thinking of sending Mum and Dad away on holiday, but with You-Know-Who back, Dad's too busy to leave the office."

Suddenly, the notebook in Hermione's hand begin to quiver and a melodious tune began to play.

"That means you've got mail!" shouted Fred. "Well go on, Hermione, don't be shy. Read it."

Turning scarlet, but with a slight grin on her face, she opened the notebook and scanned the page. Her face fell.

"Harry," she whispered shakily. "I think you'll want to see this."

Confused, Harry pushed himself off Ron's bed and walked over to where she was sitting. She passed the Wingman into his hands. Scowling, he read the thin handwriting.

 _Hello. My name is Tom Riddle_ , it read. _Who are you?_

He suddenly felt like all the air had been ripped from his lungs. This had to be somebody's idea of a prank, but then again, not many people knew what Voldemort's true name was.

"What's it say?" Ron bellowed from across the room. Hermione beckoned him over and he too read the words, his eyes widening in shock.

"Bloody hell," he stammered. "You don't think it could be a joke do you?" he asked, between Harry and Hermione's shocked expressions.

"I dunno," said Harry. There seemed to be a loud buzzing in his ears. "Seems like a sick prank to pull after the Ministry's finally accepted he's back."

"Why are you three being so bloody secretive?" Fred asked.

"Yeah, what's it say?" said George.

Harry handed the notebook to Fred and George, who scanned it and looked up blankly?

"Who's-," George began.

"You-Know-Who," Harry answered him.

"Bloody hell," the twins said in awe.

"But it could just be someone's idea of a prank, right?" asked Ron again. "I mean, you'd have known if You-Know-Who just walked into your shop?"

"Only one way to find out," Fred said. He left the room and came back a minute later with a massive green notebook, ten times as thick as the thin one Harry held in his hand.

"This here is the record of all the twin Wingmen. If You-Know-Who or one of his followers bought one of these, we'd be able to tell if it was twins with Hermione's," he said. "Hand me the notebook, would you Harry?"

Harry passed it to Fred, who waved his wand over the Wingmen while muttering a series of incantations. Suddenly, the massive book flipped open about three quarters of the way and Harry could see that the pages were filled with the names of each of the buyers. One on the lower left hand page seemed to sparkle.

Fred peered down at the sparkling name. "It looks like Hermione's twin was purchased by a Fenrir Greyback. Hold up," he said, giving a start. "Dad's mentioned him before. He's one of You-Know-Who's supporters."

Hermione gasped and clapped her hands to her mouth. "Then that must mean-," she started, coming to realization. "But why would Voldemort want a Wingman?"

"Who knows," said Fred, a huge grin spreading across his face. "But he can't know that we have his twin. George, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

George mirrored his brother's smile. "Catfish."


	5. Chapter 5

Snape and Malfoy sat fidgeting at the table, but Lord Voldemort was perfectly patient. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the Wingman began to vibrate and music began to play. Cautiously, he opened the notebook with his long white fingers.

 _"_ _Nice to meet you, Tom. My name is Hannah Johnson,"_ he read aloud. "Well?" he demanded. "How should I respond?"

"My Lord, if I may?" Lucius began timidly. "You should compliment her. I charmed Narcissa that way many years ago."

"No one wants to hear about that, Malfoy," spat Snape. "But he has a point, my Lord."

"Ah, yes, of course. Women are shallow beings. They care only for flighty things. They do not care to know the depths of the human soul." Voldemort said.

 _Dear Hannah,_

 _You sound like a beautiful woman. I would be honored to get to know a member of the Johnson family; a long, noble line of pureblood wizards. I am ashamed to admit that I am only of half-blood. My mother, descended from many great witches and wizards, was a fool in her youth and set her sights upon a Muggle. I can think of no greater dishonor to her esteemed family._ This may have been stretching the truth somewhat, owing to the fact that Marvolo Gaunt, Tom Riddle's grandfather, was a pariah among wizards and later died in Azkaban. _I seek not to follow in her footsteps, which explains my excitement in meeting you :)._

"An excellent start, my Lord," said Lucius excitedly.


	6. Chapter 6

When Hermione's notebook began to buzz and sing in the corner of the room, Harry, Ron, and the twins vaulted across Ron's room to read the message from Lord Voldemort.

"Ugh what an evil man!" she spat, her eyes scanning the page. Harry thought "evil man" might have been a bit of an understatement.

"Hermione, what'd you expect?" George said. "It's You-Know-Who we're talking about. Did you think he'd be writing about sunshine and rainbows and how he wants to befriend the Muggles?" Harry laughed. It felt almost comical to be talking about Voldemort in a situation where he was not in constant fear of death.

"Write how you've always been looking for a man who wants to see wizards in power over the Muggles!" Ron shouted.

"Bet he'd like that," Harry chuckled. "Or write how you think Harry Potter is a nasty git and he'd be better of dead."

The Weasleys and Hermione roared.

"Pass me the Wingman," Fred called.

 _Dear Tom,_ he wrote,

 _I'm so glad I've found a man who has the same view on blood status as I do. Sorry to hear about your dad, but I know you've done all you could to move past that tragic part of your life._

"I guess you could say killing his father was a great way to move on," Harry said.

"Shut up, Harry, I'm trying to concentrate," Fred said tensely.

 _I believe it would really be beneficial to the Muggles to put them under the care of people like us. The power of wizards is greater than anything this world has ever known and the they deserve to have a guiding hand, to put it nicely. Really, what I mean to say is that we should enslave the Muggles to do the bidding of wizards._

"You don't think that's a bit of an overkill do you?" laughed Harry.

"It's go hard or go home, Harry," George said.

"It's a bit sadistic, you know," said Hermione warily. "He's probably going to want to kill you when he finds out you're not a Muggle-hating witch."

"Hermione, he wants to kill me already," responded Harry. "At least now I can have the last laugh."


	7. Chapter 7

Lord Voldemort read the newest message in his Wingman hungrily. His eyes followed Hannah's gentle handwriting, but could feel the blood-lust in her words.

"She's perfect," he said softly upon finishing reading.

"Don't tell Bellatrix," whispered Lucius. Snape let out a laugh.

Without waiting for either man's advice, Voldemort picked up his quill and began to

write. Snape watched him closely. He was quite sure it was his imagination, but the Dark Lord's cheeks had a rosy hue.

 _My dear Hannah, we are so much alike. I can just imagine us together, someday: your tall slender figure, black hair rippling like a river down your back, standing next to me over looking all the other wizards and Muggles of the world. We will be omnipotent, all powerful, and magic and non-magic folk alike will revere us. Together, we can conquer the world. I can teach you magic beyond your wildest dreams. Love, Tom_


	8. Chapter 8

It was a month later, and Hermione's Wingman was almost full with love letters written back and forth to Lord Voldemort. With the help of Harry, Ron, and the twins, she believed she had quite successfully wooed the Dark Lord. In the latest message from Tom Riddle, he had spilled his soul to her, admitting his use of Dark Magic, and revealing his true identity, much to the cheers of delight from Fred and George.

"I think it's time," said George, "to arrange a meeting with this gentleman. The complete and total catfish."

"Sounds like a genius plan," said Ron. "Let's just waltz up to You-Know-Who and tell him we've been pretending to be his lover for a month. What could possibly go wrong?"

"You make it sound like we're idiots, Ronald," Fred piped up, "but you should know us better than that. Here's the plan: Yesterday, George and I nipped some hair from a Muggle girl down in the village, simply dashing that one. Harry's going to drink some Polyjuice Potion, transform into her, and go and meet You-Know-Who. Meanwhile, the four of us will be under the Invisibility Cloak, and when Harry kisses him-,"

"Woah woah," interjected Harry, "you can't possibly think I'd _kiss_ Lord Voldemort, the man who killed my parents, the most evil Dark Wizard of all time?" He liked the idea of catfishing Voldemort, but this seemed a little extreme.

"Sorry Harry, part of the plan," continued Fred. "Anyways, once Harry kisses You- Know-Who, we'll pop out, stupify him, and ship him off to Azkaban."

"Bloody brilliant," finished George, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Since You- Know-Who's come back, Mad-Eye's made everyone in the Order keep a flask of Polyjuice Potion in their houses in case of emergencies, so we shouldn't any problems getting it."

"Well now that that's all settled..."

 _My dearest Tom,_

 _Over this past month I have grown closer to you than I have to any other person. Every secret I have, I have born to you, and every hope and dream I have ever imagined, you understand. I think I love you-_

At this point, Harry and Ron burst into laughter to the point of tears and even Hermione couldn't hide her grin.

"Hush up!" scolded Fred.

 _I think I love you, Tom,_ he continued, _and I can't bear to write to you anymore without seeing your face. I know you think you're mangled, but with the touch of my lips on yours -_ "That's your lips, Harry!" he shouted to a chorus of even more riotous laughter" - _I believe that I can make your soul whole once more. Let's meet at Malfoy Manor on Monday at sundown._

 _Your love forever,_

 _Hannah_

"There!" Fred shouted, as he finished the letter with a flourish.


	9. Chapter 9

Voldemort read the latest letter from Hannah, his heart pounding inside his chest. He had never felt this way before, he was sure of that. Everything around him felt warm and light and he could barely breathe when he thought of her. The image of her beauty, her cold laughter, her hunger for power that mirrored his own gave him a satisfaction beyond any other. It felt, he thought, not like the euphoria and relief he felt when he made another Horcrux, but more like a gentle wave of continuous happiness. And against everything he had believed when he started this journey, he felt like he was really, truly, falling in love.

 _My love,_

 _I was thinking the very same thing. I think that we could be extraordinary together, rather than ordinary apart. Please, come, and we can begin our journey into the future as one._

 _You are in my heart always,_

 _Tom_

He paused for a second, his quill balanced centimeters above the parchment. _P.S. I love you, too._


	10. Chapter 10

On Monday afternoon, Fred, Ron, Harry, and Hermione were cramped back together in Ron's room, making final preparations before they left for Malfoy Manor.

"Here you are, Harry," George said as he entered the room carrying a glass of glittering blue Polyjuice Potion.

"Ooh that doesn't look to bad," encouraged Hermione, who knew from first-hand experience just how vile the potion could taste.

"Bottoms up," said Harry as he swigged from the goblet. Hermione was right. The potion containing hairs from the beautiful Muggle girl was certainly not as disgusting as Goyle's,but it still had a rather unpleasant texture. He could feel his skin melting and bubbling like hot wax, feel his body shoot downwards to the ground, his waist curve inwards, and his hair extend like snakes from his head.

"Bloody hell," said Ron, gaping. Hermione glared.

Harry looked in the mirror stuck to the back of Ron's door. It pained him to think so, but he looked truly stunning. The girl had shiny, waist length black hair, olive skin, and pink lips that curled down on the ends in a permanent stare of superiority. It was a surprise to him that her eyes were the same; green and almond shaped.

The twins tried not to stare, seeing as it was really just Harry in disguise, but they snuck in a few awed glances as everyone crammed together to Apparate to Malfoy Manor. Harry felt the familiar uncomfortable sensation of being squeezed through a tube of space and light before plummeting onto the grand gardens of Malfoy Manor. Even if he hadn't known where he was, he would have instantly been able to tell that this was the home of Draco Malfoy. The austere exterior, the peacocks, the marble pillars, and the wrought-iron gates all gave the impression of the well-known superiority he knew the Malfoy family possessed.

The Weasleys and Hermione slipped under the Cloak, leaving Harry standing alone in front of the towering entrance gates.

"Purpose?" questioned an echoing voice, from where, he could not tell.

"I'm here for a meeting with the Dark Lord," he stated, performing his best attempt at a high-pitched feminine voice. He could hear the others under the Cloak attempting to repress wild fits of giggles. However, the voice seemed not to have heard, and the gates melted into black smoke, allowing them to pass into the grounds.

They walked silently up to the great front doors, glittering in the setting sun. It was almost sundown. Harry reached out his pale hand and knocked. At once, it swung open into the dimly lit entrance hall of the manor. Standing there, waiting patiently with an expression of longing that seemed almost sickening, was Lord Voldemort.

"At last you have come," he said softly, walking towards Harry with arms outstretched. "How long I have been waiting for this day, to hold you, to caress your hair, to kiss your lips."

Harry could have sworn he heard choked back laughter coming from under the Cloak.

He and Voldemort were now mere inches apart. Harry could feel his cold breath on his face, see deeper into his piercing red eyes than he had ever wanted to see. He felt sick to his stomach. His guts coiled and burned inside of him, his head exploded in pain.

"Tom," he forced through gritted teeth, he willed himself to move closer. The pace of his heartbeat quickened. He moved his head closer. It felt strange to him that the way to finish off the man who had killed his parents was by pretending to be in love with him. But he couldn't do it. He could feel his hair receding backwards into his head, his waist expand, his legs shoot up. His skin bubbled into their normal, boy-like features. At that second, many things happened at once.

Voldemort gasped, and backed away, his face lighting up in fury. At that same instant, Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione threw off the cloak and drew their wands just as Voldemort drew his.

"That's right you follow, loathsome git!" shouted Fred, both triumph and panic spreading across his face. "There was no Hannah Johnson! It was us all along, catfishing you! You're a clingy douche, you know that right?" he laughed.

In response, Voldemort only roared and blasted a killing curse in Fred's direction, hitting him squarely in the chest. The light left his eyes in an instant, but the smile on his face faded slowly. He laughed, high and cold, and vanished in whirl of black smoke.

There was a wail of pain, pain deeper than any Harry had ever felt, and the room went dark.


End file.
